[ Mako usually doesn't like PDA quite like this. Not so sincere, not so vulnerable, not with so much feeling.
But Wu is crying and laughing and kissing him, and Mako can taste the salt-tang on his lips from the sea or his tears or both. He doesn't mind, really, too wrapped up Wu and relief and the slowly-sinking-in reality that they are here, that they made it. Fritter, maybe, makes it more real, her fur pressing familiar against Mako's skin as she wriggles between them. So instead of pulling away, Mako wraps his arm a little more tightly around Wu, pulls him and Fritter closer still, turns it into a proper kiss and pours all his relief into it. ]
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But Wu is crying and laughing and kissing him, and Mako can taste the salt-tang on his lips from the sea or his tears or both. He doesn't mind, really, too wrapped up Wu and relief and the slowly-sinking-in reality that they are here, that they made it. Fritter, maybe, makes it more real, her fur pressing familiar against Mako's skin as she wriggles between them. So instead of pulling away, Mako wraps his arm a little more tightly around Wu, pulls him and Fritter closer still, turns it into a proper kiss and pours all his relief into it. ]